


Words Unsaid

by Luminesyra



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hopeful Ending, I know I'm a little to late to this party but also I don't care, Other, Suicidal Ideation, and also rita meddling bc let's be honest rita is the only one who gets anything done around here, finally some good fucking character growth, lowkey squick warning bc i dig into juno's mental state from S2 here, this takes places pmuch immediately after the end of Man In Glass, woo first penumbra fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27392872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminesyra/pseuds/Luminesyra
Summary: Nureyev let Juno say his piece, and while it did take quite a lot of the weight off this chest over the matter, these were still some very large gaps in Juno's story.That is, until Rita sends him a file full of grainy videos.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 119





	Words Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my first time ever actually posting anything for Penumbra(lmao, only took me listening to it 3 times). Some of the characterization might be off, but I wanted to put my two cents into that convo from MIG too, even if I'm a little late. Unfortunately, I don't have as much time for writing as I'd like, but I managed to surprise myself with this by basically powering it out in one go.
> 
> Anyways, I hope y'all like it, and if you think I did them justice, yell at me to finish the Hanahaki AU for these two that I've had sitting in my Docs for a few months now.

Nureyev stared at the door for...well, that’s not really important. Long enough that it was the cold ache of his feet on the metal floor that finally got him to move, finding his knees had grown a bit stiff. Just stiff from the cold, of course, nothing more.

He didn’t go far, only to sit on his bed, tugging his legs up after him and crossing them neatly as he mulled over Juno’s words.

Honestly, the lady hadn’t really told him very much. Juno did have a nasty habit of rambling, and tended to use “I’m sorry” far too often, but regardless, Nureyev could still see every bit of the burning honestly in the detective’s soft blue eye. Even the one was more than enough to trap him, so much so that he’d barely noticed the other. Perhaps that wasn’t as surprising, though, since he tended to not look at Juno’s missing eye much at all if he could help it( _myfaultmyfaultmyfault)._

That is, until he noticed the scarring.

Nureyev was _very_ familiar with exactly what the scars of Juno’s eye ought to look like. In fact, for a very long time, when he closed his eyes, it was the only thing he saw. But the scars didn’t match up-no, that’s not quite it. There _were_ scars that lined up with the ragged stitches in his memory, but they were intersected by others, too straight and precise to be from where the tumor had blown out of his skull in that godforsaken tomb.

And he still had no idea what they were from.

Juno had explained a few things to him, sure, provided more insight on the choices he made, but there were still far too many missing pieces in this puzzle. He still had very little idea of what had transpired in the year since he’d been left in that hotel. Actually, Juno hadn’t really told him much of anything about that.

Juno had, however, told him a bit about his past, and Nureyev ended up learning that, once upon a time, Juno had been engaged. Juno hadn’t seemed very inclined to explain what happened that ended that relationship, but he did tell Nureyev that it was that relationship that created the lynchpin to his trust issues surrounding them in general.

_“When you spend more time high than you do awake, there’s not much of yourself left, and what I had revolved around Diamond. Not hard to imagine how I took it when I found out I was playing second fiddle to the only thing I gave a shit about besides a needle. Though, I guess what I did get out of it was sobriety, so there’s that.”_

Nureyev was a smart man. He could put the pieces together pretty well himself, but Juno didn’t seem to want to go into it any further. The lady told him it was because he didn’t remember most of it, but Nureyev had a feeling it was because Juno was afraid he’d look like he was fishing for pity.

To his surprise, though, he’d ended up learning a bit more about one Benzaiten Steel as well. This one seemed to come as a surprise to Juno as well. Benten’s name seemed to slip out of his mouth almost unconsciously, and his shoulders tensed when it did. Then, he took a deep breath and kept going, telling him about the time he and his brother had broken into an old concert hall that had been shut down for as long as he could remember.

_“Sometimes we weren’t even sure if the place had ever been open to begin with, but Benten wanted so bad to know what it felt like to dance on a real stage and trespassing in a place already abandoned was so low on the cops’ priorities it might as well have been legal in the first place. Mick, Annie, Sasha and I could make more than enough noise to make up for a full crowd. There weren’t a lot of times when I’d seen Benten that happy.”_

He already knew about the circumstances of Benzaiten’s death, it had been in Juno’s record when he’d looked him up on their first case. But he’d never actually seen Juno speak about his brother, or if he did come up, it would be accompanied by angry grief as Juno shut down the conversation.

Not this time, though. Instead, Juno’s voice was soft and he had a faint smile on his face, the likes of which Nureyev hadn’t _quite_ ever seen before, and his eye was glassy. He knew immediately that Juno would likely never love anyone quite as much as he’d loved his brother.

He’d spoken briefly about his mother, but only enough to give a bit of the history before Benzaiten’s death and which Steel twin the shot had been intended for.

Nureyev had heard plenty of unspoken words there, too.

The beeping from his comms pulled Nureyev out of his reverie. Leaving over, he scooped it off his bedside table and found a message from...Rita?

_So I know Mistah Steel was in your room, but I don’t think he actually told ya everything, ‘cause he reminds me a lot of the guy from The Edge of the Waterfall, except Mistah Steel ain’t dyin of cancer and doesn’t have an estranged daughter who may or may not have the disease that may or may not be hereditary-_

He skimmed a few lines down past the rambling until he found the next _Mistah Steel._

_Anyways, Mistah Steel doesn’t actually know I have these, and also doesn’t know I’ve seen them, but also it’s all stuff I already knew, but also I think Mistah Steel is trying to work some stuff out with you too, and if I’m right about who he’s talking about, I think you might should see them too._

_Please don’t tell him I gave you these._

_Or that I have them._

_Or that you saw them._

Nureyev waited a few minutes to make sure there were no more incoming messages, before clicking on the link from the first one. It opened up to a file folder that, if he had to guess, was on Rita’s computer. Inside were several video files, labeled with nothing besides their auto-generated date codes.

One of them was from the last night Nureyev spent on Mars, the oldest one. It was less then a minute long, and the thumbnail was nearly black.

Nureyev felt his jaw clench, but clicked on the video.

For a moment, the camera just jerked around, and he could hear Juno’s fingers thumping on the screen.

_“Pretty sure this thing’s going.”_ Juno muttered. Nureyev heard him let out a quiet sigh and there was a sloshing noise off-screen. The camera was finally still and he could now see it was the inside of Juno’s office. The lights were off and the perspective was too low to the ground for Juno to be sitting anywhere other than the floor. _“My name’s Juno Steel...I’m a Private Eye, and this is my city. I’m not proud of it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth saving.”_ Juno’s voice was thick, and there was a long pause. _“And hell, it’s not like I had anywhere better to go.”_

That one stung.

There were a few more seconds of silence, and another round of sloshing. _“God, what the hell am I even doi-”_ The feed cut off, but not before Nureyev heard Juno’s voice crack and break.

Part of Nureyev couldn’t help the surge of bitterness that rose at Juno’s words. But right alongside that bitterness was an ache that hadn’t really seemed to fully go away ever since Juno set foot on the ship. Part of him cursed himself a fool, for putting Juno in the position he did when he asked Juno to come with him, for not seeing the trauma for what it was and thinking that he could _actually_ make a rational decision after everything that had happened.

Juno hadn’t been any pinnacle of rationality _before_ being tortured for nearly a month. Weeks after he’d left Mars, the realization hit him that there was just as much of a chance that Juno’s little display of martyrdom was a suicide attempt.

That hadn’t really quelled the anger or the hurt, though, because instead of actually trying to talk to him about any of this, Juno had just...left.

It really hadn’t done him any favors that the surly detective had walked out right after learning the one piece of his buried past that haunted him the most.

Nureyev shook his head, firmly filing away the rest of that train of thought and clicking on the next video before he could dwell any further.

The video was grainy and had odd patches of light starkly against black, and Nureyev decided the camera was probably facedown.

_“Not sure why I’m doing this again. Wasn’t a good idea the first time, and it probably isn’t now, but it’s not like anyone else wants to talk. Rita just...doesn’t get it. I missed the goddamn shot, and now that bastard’s probably out hunting again. More innocent people are gonna die, and apparently there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to stop it. Try all you like, Steel, but the only part that matters is if you did it or not and I didn’t. Some clown I am.”_

It was quiet for about a minute before the video just ended.

Nureyev swallowed thickly. This time, it was a little harder to just file away Juno’s struggle with his missing eye. Harder to ignore the fact that someone dangerous got away from him because he couldn’t rely on his aim anymore.

The light was a bit brighter in the next one, but the only thing on the screen looked like maybe a wall?

The footage rocked back and forth, accompanied by soft thumps, and Nureyev drew the conclusion that it was not a wall, but a ceiling, and Juno was tapping his comms against his chest.

_“So. Guess this is where I’m at. Talking to the goddamn roof and moping. Man, Ben would kick my ass if he ever saw me like this.”_

It was quiet for a few minutes.

_“Guess I shouldn’t be that surprised, though. No one wants to hear a grown-ass man complain about his job. I mean, no one really wants to hear me say much of anything, but I hear a poor disposition does that to a lady. Maybe one of these days I’ll spring for an upgrade._

_“I mean, I guess I technically solved the case, I pulled off what I was paid to do, but I still let her get away. All because I couldn’t make the goddamn shot. Shot I could’ve made in my sleep before...But then, I guess that checks. Actions, consequences, all that crap. At least this way I know I was right. This is better. Better for him, anyways, leaving this mess behind. At this point, I’m literally just deadweight holding together a business with spit and an eyepatch. I really should just fire Rita, for her own sake. She’s so wasted working for me it’s not even funny. There’s places that would kill for her once they figured out how to read her notes. Hell, maybe I oughta give them the tip myself, two birds with one stone. Maybe she’d get a boss who didn’t blow up cats and let shady loan sharks get away. Maybe whoever I’m meeting later will make the decision for me.”_

The tapping paused for a minute, and it was quiet enough that, for a moment, Nureyev wondered if the video had frozen.

_“I wonder where he is. If he’s forgotten me yet. I hope so. There’s already too many people with my name in their baggage. He doesn’t deserve that.”_

There was a lot to unpack there, enough that Nureyev’s mind decided to fixate on the exploding cat bit first. He clicked the next video before it could get too much further.

_“I’ve always wondered, why does it matter in court if it was an accident or not? Oops, someone’s dead, but it’s suddenly more okay if they're dead because you didn’t do it on purpose? Doubt Swift’s daughter will share that sentiment. At least she’s still getting the help she needs. For a second, I almost thought about looking her up and telling her myself. Almost. But that kid doesn’t deserve that, I’ve taken enough away from her. She shouldn’t have to look me in the eye too. Hell, she doesn’t even get a choice of which eye to look at. I hope she gets taken care of, though._

_“Y’know, sometimes I think maybe I should have gone, because at least then Mars would be rid of one Oldtown stain that just keeps making messes. I still haven’t done a single thing worth doing since that night. God, why didn’t that bomb just do what a bomb is supposed to. At least maybe then he’d have one reason not to hate me. But then, maybe the punishment is getting to live with knowing he does.”_

At this point, Nureyev didn’t have much willpower to keep holding onto his cold anger. His heart broke at Juno’s words, _how_ had he not noticed this before? Juno’s voice sounded so devoid of...well, anything, honestly. It hurt almost as much as the sounds of his screams in Miasma’s lab.

The next video was facing out into a room again, this time it looked like Juno’s bedroom? He wasn’t completely sure, because the footage shook violently.

_“I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t...god_ damnit! _Pollock didn’t do anything wrong except his job, and he’s dead, and it’s my goddamn fault. Look at that, Juno Steel Professional Screw Up strikes again. And for a goddamn publicity stunt. That man didn’t deserve to die. I’d do anything to take his place. Why in the hell do I get to walk away from that one without a goddamn scratch, what’s even my_ excuse _? I could’ve downed them both in an instant with the Theia’s tracking, and I just...watched. Why do I still get to fucking live?”_

The image shook harder for a moment before it jerked, and Nureyev jumped in alarm at a familiar click, having a guess as to where it was pointing. Side by side was a memory where he’d seen the action firsthand.

_“That’s just the question, isn’t it? Why the hell do I get to live? Don’t need a sharpshooter’s aim for this target, do I?”_ A faint clinking could be heard, and if the shaky camera was any indication, it was probably safe enough to assume Juno’s other hand was shaking too. _“C’mon, Steel, what do you even have to lose. For once in your life, stop being a fucking coward and just do something that will make a difference.”_ The tears in his voice were audible and Nureyev had a hand pressed to his mouth, teeth clamped on his lip. _“Please, please, why can’t I just...please be quiet. I wasn’t worth giving your name to, I’m not worth anything. Just make it stop, Juno,_ please.”

Juno’s breathing was fast and heavy and with a sharp yell, Nureyev saw a brief glint that was probably the blaster and the video stopped.

Nureyev dropped his comms and for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain in Juno’s voice was so thick and cloying, by the end each word felt like a twisting knife in his chest.

How long had Juno wanted to die? How long had this stupid, wonderful Detective hated himself so much that he’d lived decades just waiting to die?

It took several minutes of careful breathing for Nureyev to work up the courage to pick his comms back up.

He went through them one by one, learning about Ramses O’Flaherty and of the Theia Spectrum. He learned of The Proctor and the Piranha. He learned of Pilot Perera, Alessandra Strong and Erin Marshall D’Ark. He learned of Jack Takano, and how the Theia Spectrum had both saved his life and tried to take it. He learned of Doctor Hanataba, and the Theia Soul. He saw the spark of fight slowly come back into the(his) lady’s voice after the Free Dome incident. He saw where Juno had finally, _finally_ begun to let go of the responsibility of every death that happened in his vicinity.

In every video, Juno also mentioned “him” in some way or another.

The last video was dated for the day Juno was picked up from Mars. It was also the only video that Juno actually showed his face in.

_“I guess I’m really committing to this whole video diary thing. Or is it a vlog when you show your face? Never was much one for history, and old Earth slang is a mess._

_“But, uh, yeah. This is...this is it. I’m actually going.”_

Juno sighed and ran a hand through his hair. At some point he’d obviously started taking better care of it. The first two times they had worked together, Juno had kept his hair short, probably to keep it as low-maintenance as possible with the thick texture and wide wavy curls. In the video, though, it looked much the same as it did now, undercut pushed to one side and hanging about to his jaw. Nureyev was also fairly sure he saw some kind of frizz control product in the bathroom once, that had to have been Juno’s, because only he and Rita had a real need for it, and there was a distinct lack of stickers and glitter glue on it.

_“It’s different, though._ I’m _different. Last time, I wasn’t ready. I was scared and in pain, and all kinds of messed up. I had something I was terrified to lose, and once that thought hit, I was terrified I’d have to watch it happen. But it’s not the same now. That was Juno Steel, Private Eye. Now, it’s just Juno Steel. This time, I’m ready to not be afraid anymore. I’m still a little scared, yeah, but I know better this time. One way or another, Hyperion will still be standing when I get back. If I get back. I don’t know. That part’s a little scary too, but I think I’m okay with it. Hyperion made it for centuries before it had a washed up, cyclops PI in it, and I think she’ll be alright without one._

_“So, I guess that’s it then. Rita and I are off to the stars. Call me a fool if you like, but maybe I have enough hope left to find someth-some_ one _else out there too.”_

The video stopped and for a long, long time, Nureyev just stared at his comms in silence.

He finally lifted a hand up to run it through his own hair, and realized there were tears on his cheeks when he skimmed his face.

It was late, late enough that Juno was probably already asleep, but that thought didn’t occur to him until he was standing outside of Juno’s room. He blinked at the door a couple times, honestly not completely sure when he’d gotten up at all, let alone walked all the way down the hall.

_My apologies, Rita._ He knocked lightly on the door, hopefully not enough to wake Juno if he was already asleep, but loud enough to be heard if he wasn’t.

For a split second, he hoped Juno was asleep, but after a moment, he heard soft shuffling inside.

“Rita, it’s a little late for a-oh. Um. Hi?” Juno’s eye was wide.

“I apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour, Detective, but if it’s not too much trouble, may we speak?”

“Uh, sure thing. Couldn’t sleep anyways.” Juno stepped aside and waved him in.

Juno’s room was a bit less messy than he’d kept his apartment. There was a pile of dirty clothes in one corner in lieu of a hamper, and sparse bits of clutter here and there, but it was more of a lived in sort of clutter. A couple pairs of shoes by the door, that trench coat draped over a chair, a nearly empty glass of water on the table.

Juno sat on the edge of his somewhat made bed, lacing his fingers together and glancing at Nureyev. “So, um. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps.” Nureyev turned the chair with Juno’s coat on it around and sat to face him. “I apologize for blindsiding you with this, but why did you leave so much out of what happened in the last year? The Spectrum, the Soul, O’Flaherty?”

Juno froze. “How did you find out about that?”

His tone was cautious, but not necessarily distrusting.

“She did ask me not to tell you, but I’m not certain how I would get around it in order to confront this.” Nureyev passed Juno his comms to show him the folder of videos.

Juno’s face contorted to one of poorly hidden panic when he realized what they were and, more importantly, when they were from. “How did she even-?” Juno cursed. “This is from when she upgraded my comms. Turns out, cheap ones aren’t so great for intergalactic travel. I had no idea she found those.”

“I know it’s an invasion of your privacy, and I’m sorry, but-”

“No, no-” Juno waved him off. “It’s f...no. It’s _not_ fine, but I’m not really _angry_ I guess?” he sighed. “If I remember the shit I recorded correctly, I’m pretty sure most of that is stuff I’d have told you anyways. I’ll be honest, the whole...Soul and Ramses thing, is still a little fresh for small talk, but I’d have told you eventually if you decided you wanted to hear it.”

“Right now I’m less concerned about the events themselves, and more so why you felt the need to leave them out.” Nureyev pressed.

“Some of the...recent stuff, I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about yet. If you know enough to know who Jack Takano is, then you can probably guess why. But I also didn’t because I didn’t want you thinking I wanted sympathy. Bad times aren’t a competition, and I didn’t want you to think that me acting like a jackass was somehow justified because I had a worse time than you. That’s not how it works.”

Nureyev was...honestly, maybe a little impressed? Juno had grown a _lot_ in the past year, if that answer was any indication.

“I mean yeah, I didn’t have a great time. Whoop de do, I haven’t had a super great life, but that’s not an automatic excuse to be a jerk all the time, and it was about time I started acting like it. I mean, c’mon, look at Mick. Guy’s almost nauseatingly optimistic, and he grew up in the same dumpster apartments I did. He was still friends with Ben and Annie too, his uncle beat them hell out of him just like my mom did.”

Nureyev tried, and failed, to stifle a sharp inhale. Juno’s eye flicked up.

“Guess that wasn’t in any of them? I don’t remember them all, sometimes I was drunk. Besides, I thought you said you looked me up?”

“I found a rather extensive medical record, but I had assumed that had been due to provoking fistfights, and your, ah, demeanor when we first met seemed to back that up well enough.” he explained.

“...that’s fair. But no, first time I actually went to the hospital after a street fight, I was...uh, fifteen, I think? Whichever time I dislocated my jaw. Couldn’t fix that one at home.”

_...For future consideration._

“Anyways, I’m sorry, I guess? Honestly, I didn’t actually think that stuff was that important, not right then. Most of that doesn’t actually have anything to do with that night, and I wasn’t trying to deliver a sob story.” Juno fidgeted.

“No need to apologize, Juno, it’s not as if I have a reason to be upset. As I said, I’m more worried about why you would omit these things, but I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from.” Nureyev did not think now would be a particularly tactful time to bring up the fact that he now knew of at least two times Juno had held a gun to his own head.

A long pause filled the air.

“You were wrong, though.” Nureyev said.

“That happens a lot. What’s the damage?”

“I wasn’t better without you. Not like that.”

“Peter, I’m-”

“Let me finish, Juno.” Nureyev cut him off. Juno pressed his lips together, watching him intently. “I believe I owe you an apology, as well. After what happened underground, you were more than traumatized and I was wrong to ask you to make a decision like that under that kind of duress. I believe I made you feel cornered, and for that I am sorry.”

Juno didn’t respond right away, chewing absently on his lip in a way that Nureyev found more than a bit distracting.

“Okay. You’re right. I wasn’t in any kind of place to make a choice like that. I do think you ought to know that I don’t regret it, though. If I hadn’t stayed, if I went with you, I don’t think I’d be here right now. I don’t mean literally, but I think I’d still be stuck in that hole. For a long time, I just pretended it wasn’t there, but the depression...that would have gone with me. In some ways, it still has. I don’t know if I’ll ever get rid of it, but I’m better now than I was before. I’ll have my bad days, and that’s okay, as long as I know the good days are coming after.

“It took me way too long to realize it, but it’s okay to not be okay sometimes. Difference now is I think I’m learning what kind of not-okay I can handle by myself and what I can’t. That sometimes, things happen and I can’t do anything about it, but that doesn’t mean it has to be my fault every time. Definitely still learning with that one, but there’s a lot of things I’ll probably be learning for a long time. I think I just got more okay with accepting that.”

Nureyev didn’t have any words for that. How could he? Once again, Juno Steel proved to be so far beyond anything he could expect, and it was frankly breathtaking.

There was also a distinct lack of sarcasm in Juno’s little speech, which was jarring enough it it’s own right.

Finally, he cleared his throat and stood. Juno’s room probably hadn’t been searched for bugs, but there hadn’t been any in his and right then, it was a chance he was willing to take.

“Right then. It’s lovely to meet you, Juno Steel, Amature Thief. My name is Peter Nureyev.” he held out his hand.

Juno almost cracked a grin. “Nice to meet you, Peter Nureyev. If...If you want to, I think I want to try to get to know you, for real this time.”

“I think I would quite like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand, scene.
> 
> I DO have a writing tumblr, but I don't really use it much since I'm not a super consistent author, but if you wanna come yell at me about Jupeter, my URL is the same as my username here.


End file.
